


one thousand ninety five

by rosesandcinnamon



Series: SNK Modern AU [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, Modern AU, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-02 15:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesandcinnamon/pseuds/rosesandcinnamon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has one thousand and ninety-five days until she's home again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1095

One thousand and ninety-five days until she was home, back in her own room and with Ymir and her friends again.

Christa lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling blankly. She hadn’t spent a day in this house and already hated it. Thinking about that huge span of time between now and then, Christa got an idea, rolling off her neatly made bed and running across the room. Her mother always insisted on buying tons of school supplies, and Christa had enough notebook paper to last her years. She rifled through the box, taking out the paper.

Turning the radio on and sitting down with a pair of scissors, a stapler, and the stack of paper, Christa started cutting paper and chaining it, counting out loud.

She sat on her floor for hours, humming absently to the radio once hearing her own voice was tiring. The night progressed, and she didn’t even hear her mother’s alarm go off at six AM. A few minutes later, she paused outside Christa’s door and went in, expecting her daughter to be asleep, but finding a ridiculously long paper chain and  Christa awake in the middle of her room.

“Historia Christa Renz, have you been up all night!?”

Christa looked up blearily, startled by her mother’s voice.

“What? No- what time is it?”

“It’s six fifteen! I thought you went to sleep hours ago!”

Christa rubbed her face before returning to her paper chain, sighing.

“Sorry, Mom. I guess I lost track of time.”

“What are you doing anyway?”

“Making a paper chain to count down the days. I’m almost done.”

Christa stapled her last circles together, pausing for a moment.

“I guess I can stop at a thousand and ninety-four, since technically it’s been a day.”

Her mother’s voice was quiet, dreading the answer.

“What are you counting down to?”

“Until I’m home.”

Christa unfolded her legs, dragging the chain with her to the other side of the room, taking a thumbtack out of a small box of them and standing on her desk to pin the first paper circle to the ceiling. Her mother watched silently as Christa pinned it a few more times until the end of the chain hung above her desk, and she climbed down.

“I’m going to bed, Mom. Have a good day at work.”

Her mother nodded, and with a hug and a kiss, she left the room. Christa undressed, putting her oldest and softest pajamas on, and she untucked her covers. With a sigh, she put her head down.

Now alone with her thoughts, she cried herself to sleep.


	2. seven hundred thirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> christa makes some bad desicions and these big dumb idiots really miss each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is a lot of headcanon in this chapter um basically christa gets involved with a girl and then this chapter happens and it basically ruins her life my poor baby

When it was midnight and she had seven hundred and thirty days left, Christa wasn’t even thinking about it, more occupied with the girl she was kissing. It was past curfew, and she shouldn’t have been at the party in the first place, but she had heard about it, known exactly who would be there, and snuck out.

Which had led her to this. Christa heard something, but didn’t bother to pull away, distracting herself. Light flooded into the dark room, and then she separated from the other girl, looking to the source and nearly falling in her haste to get away from her. The person in the hallway, she couldn’t tell, made a half-accusatory, half-shocked gasp, and Christa’s troubles came flooding back.

“It’s not like that! _She_ kissed me first!”

Christa looked at her, mouth open, having expected anything but the blame on her.

“You-“

The person in the hallway came in; flipping the light switch to on, and Christa’s heart sank. It was the other girl’s best friend, and she was so fucked. Said best friend put her arms around her with comforting words, glaring at Christa viciously, and she slunk out, grabbing her jacket and phone from where they had fallen on the floor, hating the numbers on the clock.

The walk would have been peaceful, if not for Christa ripping herself apart internally. How fucking stupid could she be? She didn’t lock the door, she didn’t think ahead, and most of all, she had trusted her.

She just wanted to be _home_ , dammit. Stopping suddenly, she checked the date, and smiled slightly. A year since she had moved.

Moved. Away from everything she knew and loved. Her home, her room, her friends, her school. Ymir. And she had tried to replace all that with one girl?

What a mess. Just a year here, and already falling apart. Fallen apart, in fact. Christa pulled her jacket closer to her, trying to stave off the cold night air, and the coldness she felt in the . Zipping it up, tucking her chin down to put it over her nose, she realized. She must have stolen this one from Ymir, because it still smelled faintly of cinnamon. Assaulted by the familiar scent, Christa cried silently, almost to her house.

She slipped in through the window she had left cracked open, closing it after her. Christa slowly took the jacket off, and was about to drape it over her chair, but stopped.

Putting it to her nose, she inhaled, taking comfort from the reminder of home and her best friend, and wondered if Ymir missed her as much, or if at all.

                                                                                ~

Ymir was lying on her bed, listening to soft music and on an impulse, reached for her phone and pressed a button to turn the screen on. The background photo was from the last time she had seen Christa, at the going-away party they had thrown for her. Someone else, Ymir couldn’t remember who, had taken the photo, and in it, Ymir was smiling at the camera, but Christa wasn’t. Christa was looking at Ymir, smiling in her special way. She rolled over to stare at her wall of photos, putting her phone beneath her pillow with a deep sigh.


	3. three hundred sixty five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I forgot about this fic, but I had the chapter pre-written. Oh well, it's not one of my most popular fics.

Looking over at the clock just to have a distraction, Christa smiled bitterly at the time. Hours had slipped by while she was lost in her own head. She got up slowly and climbed on her desk to rip a link out of her old paper chain. Three hundred and sixty five days left.

Just a year left, and she couldn’t even force herself to see the bright side. God, just how pathetic _was_ she? Christa got down slowly, slamming her knee on her chair. Seeing no point in going to sit on her bed again, she slumped against the desk, staring into space. She sat like that for a few minutes before she felt her phone vibrate, and took it out of her pocket. Nothing. Just her imagination. Acting on instinct, she slowly typed out a number, and almost didn’t hit call. The phone rang several times, and Christa was about to hang up when a painfully familiar voice answered.

“Who the fuck is calling me at three in the morning?”

“Hey, Ymir-“

Christa’s breath hitched and she started to cry, almost dropping the phone. Ymir recognized her voice from just the way she said her name, and the concern in her voice was clear.

“Wh- Christa? Are you okay?”

She shook her head before remembering Ymir couldn’t see her.

“Christa, seriously. What’s wrong?”

“Everything, Ymir. I only have a year left and I can’t think of anything but getting out of here any way I can and most days I’d prefer dying and I _miss you_ -“

“Christa. Shit, I wish I could be with you right now.  I… God, what happened?”

Christa laughed hysterically, hugging herself with her free arm.

“You don’t even want to fucking know, Ymir. I fucked everything up and now I’m even more alone than before.”

She let out a muffled sob, resting her head on her knees. Ymir was silent for a moment, trying to process everything. Being able to hear Christa cry but not being able to comfort her was physically painful.

“Shit. I don’t have anything to _say_ , Christa, and it feels like nothing I can say could help at all. Do you want to talk at all?”

“Not really. …I’m just so tired, Ymir, and I can’t sleep.”

“Do you want me to just talk until you can fall asleep?”

“That would be really great.”

So Ymir talked. For an hour. Christa’s head started drooping, emotional exhaustion getting to her. When she gave no reply to a question, Ymir listened, saying her name again.

“Mm-what? Sorry, I’m,” Christa yawned loudly, interrupting herself, and she got up, continuing her sentence.

“I’m falling asleep.”

Ymir laughed, knowing what a sleepy Christa was like.

“Then go to bed. I’m still here.”

Christa slipped into her pajamas and climbed underneath the covers, putting Ymir on speakerphone and telling her so. Ymir continued talking, and when she heard nothing but soft breathing, she hung up, a heartbroken smile on her face.

 


End file.
